


Reconciliation

by then_let_it_be_true



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:05:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/then_let_it_be_true/pseuds/then_let_it_be_true
Summary: My imaginings on how Ross made it back to Demelza's bed after the tenuous kiss they shared on the cliff at the end of S2.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a long time that Ross had found the cot set up for him in the library and consequently started sleeping there. And as uncomfortable as that cot was, it was a comfort to know that Demelza had not left him after all and was still upstairs in “their” room. Yes, she was wounded and hurt, but she was still up there, in the same house, and Jeremy, their son, was still there too. Ross had had a lot of time in that lonely library to go over and over his decisions, albeit poor ones, and what path they had led him on. It was in one such deep thought that he heard a slight tapping on his door. “Ross,” she said so softly he wasn't sure if it was real or his wishful thinking. “Ross, are you awake?” It was Demelza. He lifted his head off the pillow to see her mane of wild, red hair just outside the door of the library. “What’s wrong?” he quickly asked, knowing her reluctance to speak to him unless absolutely necessary. “Nothing,” she said, “it’s the coldest night of the year and I know how draughty this library can be. I didn’t know if you wanted to come upstairs just to be closer to the bigger fireplace, but nothing more.” He laid there not quite believing his ears. He became aware that he was nervous. He took forever to respond, trying to choose his words carefully. “Yes, I am quite cold tonight,” is what he finally decided to say. “Suit yourself,” she replied with forced indifference, and then turned and headed upstairs.

He had to fight the urge to bound up the stairs behind her, two at a time. So instead he sat on the edge of his cot for several minutes, reminding himself to think before he spoke and not ruin this. With trepidation, he slowly climbed the stairs, politely knocking like a stranger on the door to the room where he had once gotten to know every inch of her body. “Demelza, can I come in?” A sleepy and muffled “yes” told him that he could. When he pushed the door open, he saw that she was already abed. She had put a goodly stack of extra bedding in the middle of the bed, creating a wall that clearly separated “his” side from “hers.” It mattered not to Ross. She, after all this time, had invited him upstairs. Could she also forgive his transgressions? Ross walked over and stirred the fire, adding logs to keep the room warm and cozy. “Good night, Demelza,” he said and climbed into the bed.

Demelza was gone before he woke the next morning. But that didn’t surprise him. She often rose early to start chores for the day. He himself had a busy day planned at the mine. But he couldn’t help but reflect on this olive branch that she so generously extended to him. He decided he needed to exert extra effort, to court her almost, to keep things moving in the right direction, and he would make sure he left the mine to take the mid-day meal with her. Before that fateful night in May, he often was too busy to come home until late in the evening. Maybe it was because he had lost sight of priorities and had become complacent in their marriage. However, at the mine on this particular day, he frequently took out the pocket watch given to him by his deceased father so as not to be late. Even Captain Henshawe noticed the nervous gazes at his watch and asked him what was amiss.

Demelza spun around and a look of surprise came over her face when Ross walked into the kitchen shortly after noon. “May I take meal with you?” he asked when he saw the question in her eyes. She didn’t smile, but began putting food on the table. Ross quickly got two plates so she would know he intended her to join him. She sat down, across from him, an icy silence between the two, but it wasn’t long before they were engaged in small banter about Jeremy or talking about repairs that were needed to the cottage. It was the most they had spoken for months and he reluctantly reached for old Joshua’s pocket watch again, knowing he had to get back to the mine. Demelza instinctively rose and began clearing the table. Ross went to grab his own plate to help her at the same time she was reaching, and for a brief moment their fingers touched. This was the first time they had touched since the tenuous kiss they had shared on the cliffside, the day after he told her his abiding love was only for her. He searched her eyes and saw that the hurt and wounded expression that she had worn for so long was finally beginning to soften. “Thank you,” he said, enlacing his fingers once again with hers, and then left quickly for the mine before she could gather her composure and protest his closeness.

When he returned that evening, she was as usual still finishing up things in the kitchen. He sat himself in the parlour in front of the fireplace, pouring himself a glass of brandy and lighting his pipe. He was not expecting her to come in with her mending and sit with him, but she did. They again spoke of “safe” subjects: the events of the day, the tooth Jeremy had lost, the rabbit Garrick had chased in Demelza’s garden. It was all very pleasant, but Ross was very tired from his exertions at the mine. “I’m afraid I am in need of retiring for the night,” he yawned. She looked quizzically at him, wondering why he just didn’t go to bed. He rose and stood there a while longer, not sure of what room he was expected to go to. Searching her eyes yielded no answer. Deciding to allow everything to be on her terms, he turned and went to his cot in the library having not received the invitation to go upstairs. Upon entering, he was surprised to see the cot was folded up and placed against the wall, the room devoid of any bedding or pillows. She looked at him and smiled before he climbed the stairs to their room.

The bed was turned down and the pillows had been fluffed. The only thing missing was the “wall” of bedding from the previous night. Ross was asleep before his head hit the pillow, however the sound of her footsteps on the stairs woke him. She got herself comfortable on the other side and then reached and took his hand in hers. Even though his bad ankle from his war injury was bothering him from the way he was laying, he decided he would stay this way all night, forever even, if it meant he could keep holding her hand. If she had looked over at him, she would’ve been sure to see the dimple in his right cheek as he smiled.

And so the days and nights continued as such: pleasant conversations during the day, and chastely retiring together at night. Ross had even started sleeping in his nightshirt again instead of fully clothed in his shirt and breeches, braces hanging down from his waistband. On this particular night, he had taken the liberty to lay his head behind her on her pillow, his body gently spooning her back. Instead of protesting, Demelza actually turned and nuzzled her head against his chest, allowing his arm to drape across her waist; and as he held her, he became aware that his chest was getting damp. “Are you crying?” he asked, trying to angle his head down to see her face. Demelza didn’t answer. “What’s upsetting you, Demelza?” “I just can’t Ross. I just can’t…the images of you…and her…in my head…together,” she said between sobs. “There’s so many questions yet, like how many times did you… were you on top or was she… “Sweetheart,” he stopped her before she could go on, “I don’t know how this would help you…would help us.” Ross laid there, figuring he owed her something, but not wanting to undo all the progress they had slowly made. He finally said, “I will tell you this, as soon as we started, as soon as I was inside her, I knew it was wrong. It was cold and robotic. There were none of the fireworks that I had supposed for many years would be there. I guess I was expecting our souls to meet, much like it is with you and me. There was no need for a second time because once was enough to tell me it was a mistake, and that I had ruined everything with you. So I got up and came home to take my chances with your forgiveness.” Demelza rolled over and began sobbing into her pillow. Ross tried to touch her shoulder, but she quickly put up a hand to swat his away. He laid there not knowing what to do when he decided to say, “I’ll go back down to the library,” and grabbed his pillows.

On his way down, he cursed himself for saying what he did. He really was an idiot. He was removing the cot from the wall when out of the corner of his eye he saw her standing in the doorway. Tears had stained her face. She said, “nothing has changed your invitation to come back upstairs, and I folded up your cot because we’re done with it and I’m ready to try to put this behind us. So, I would like you to come to bed if that’s also what you want.” “Of course it is,” he reassured her. “I’ll be right up as soon as I put this away. You go on ahead."

But he didn’t put it away. He opened the cot, and sat on the edge of it. The emotions of self-loathing for what he put this woman, his wife, through…what he put his family through was unbearable. The idiocy he had subjected everyone to just to prove what he should have known all along. Tears were escaping the eyes of this once strong and proud man. After he took some time to compose himself, he slowly climbed the stairs, again knocking softly at the door. “Come in,” she said. Now it was his turn to have a tear stained face. He ungracefully used the back of his hand to wipe each eye and his nose, and as his eyes began to focus again, he noticed that Demelza was sitting on the edge of their bed, completely naked. “I didn’t know… Perhaps you…I can go back…” he stammered, not quite knowing what to do or say. She rose and began walking slowly towards him. Even after two children, she still looked as beautiful as the first night he had helped to remove the fateful blue dress from her, the night his life forever changed. The soft candle-light of the room was casting a warm glow on her body. “Demelza…” he said as she stood before him. She took his hands and guided them to her breasts. He immediately closed his eyes at the feel of her skin. It had been a very long time. He leaned in, “Demelza,” he said softly in her ear, his breath hitching and his voice becoming raspy, “you don’t have to…” She took his face in her hands and planted a soft kiss on his lips. His hands only left her body long enough for her to pull his nightshirt over his head and drop it in a pool by their feet. They were now both naked. “Are you sure?” he asked into her neck as he planted barely-there kisses down to her shoulder. She took his hands again and walking backwards, led him to their bed. He stood there, fingers under her chin, lifting her head up to search her eyes for any hesitation or second thoughts she might have. Having found none, he lowered them both to the bed. After that, bodies, mouths, hands, and tongues took over, both of them hungry to recover the lost time. Ross held nothing back and poured out everything he had to her: his heart, his soul, and on numerous occasion throughout that night, his seed. Arching her back, Demelza reciprocated by breaking their kisses to pant out his name. Bodies and legs entangled in the sheets, past love-making paling in comparison to this. And when he woke in the morning, his first reaction was fear, fear that she was gone, having come to her senses about forgiving him his infidelity, as if last night had been a test if she truly could put it past her, and she had realized she could not. But she was still asleep, still wrapped in his embrace. He let out a soft sigh of relief, and planted a tender kiss on her forehead, whispering the same promise he had told her that night she had almost left him all those many month ago, “She will never come between us again, my love.” He drifted back to sleep, comforted by the chance of another day to show her she was the only one he could ever love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross finally finds the courage to apologize to Demelza

When Ross woke the second time, his arms were empty and he was in the bed alone. He was never a man given over to indulgences like sleeping in, but from the strong sunlight flooding in the windows, he could surmise he had done just that. He got up and dressed in haste, stopping in Jeremy’s room to see if he was there before heading downstairs. He could find no one. “Demelza!” he shouted as he ran down the stairs. “Demelza?” he questioned as he peeked in each room. The house was empty. Ross wondered when, if ever, he would be able to stop worrying that his wife had taken their son and packed her bags with an intent to leave.

Stepping outside, Ross was warmed by the mid-morning sun and also by the sight of his entire family in Demelza’s garden. Ever since his adulterous night last May, Demelza had ignored her garden, as if she was too heartbroken to allow herself the things that had once brought her joy. But so much was changing. She had invited him back into her bed last night and welcomed him back into her body. The sight of her working in her beloved garden was one more step in the right direction.

Ross observed that everyone was rather busy; Garrick was with nose to the ground as he chased down scents of previous rabbits, Jeremy was digging in the soil and planting what appeared to be seashells from Hendrawna Beach, and Demelza was breaking up the stubborn soil with a hoe. Approaching his family, Ross announced his presence by saying, “It seems everyone is engaged with a task this morning. Might there also be one for me?” Demelza shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “Ross!” she smiled. It had been so very long that his presence didn’t elicit a frown from her. “If you’d a mind to take over the tilling, I’ll go over and pull some of the weeds.”

She handed him the hoe and went over to the corner of the garden. The weeds had been left to fester for quite some time and most of them had taken very stubborn root. Demelza sat on the ground to gain better leverage on the thistles and take it easy on her back. Ross had just nearly gotten started when he heard his wife shriek with pain and cradle her hand to her chest. “Demelza?” he called out and quickly bounded over to her. She looked up at him, “It’s my finger. I had a stabbing pain!” Dropping to his knees beside her, he inquired, “Will you let me look at it?” She gave him her hand and he tenderly held it to examine for wounds. The light was being blocked by the garden wall and Ross was having trouble seeing. “Might we come over to the bench where I could see things better?” She nodded. He was the first to rise, extending his hand to help her off the ground. They walked over and sat on the wood bench that was made and gifted them by her brother, Drake.

Taking their places beside each other, Ross noticed that the knuckle on her finger was bright purple. “Were the weeds being especially stubborn that you had to exert yourself?” he asked her. She nodded, “a bit.” Touching it gently and then seeing she did not wince he went on, “I believe you’ve broken a blood vessel. That’s the reason for the purple color. There’s really nothing to be done for it, but wait for your system to reabsorb it. It might feel bruised and swell a little, but should be gone in just a few days.” She nodded and looked down at her hand.

She could see that Ross was still intently looking at her. “Demelza,” he said so softly, “I’m sorry for your hurt.” She was still looking down and rubbing her finger. When she spoke, she said, “It only hurt at first, it felt much like a bee-sting. It’s fine now.” Ross knew it was now or never. “Demelza, I mean I’m sorry for your hurt…that I…that I caused you.” She looked up at him with surprise and was met with a most sincere expression on his face. He went on, “Having been married to me for so long, you obviously know what I am, and that is a man who struggles to communicate emotions. For your sake I wish I was different. But I’m trying to be different now.” Jeremy was running over to him. “Papa, Papa!” the young boy shouted, crashing into Ross’s knees. “Look at the row of seashells I’ve planted!” Ross looked over, “Fine job, Jeremy! But it seems Garrick is digging them back up.” The boy turned to see the mongrel indeed was digging frantically with his front paws. “Garrick, nooooooooooo!” he shouted, running back over to salvage his hard work.

Alone again, Ross continued, “If you had taken Jeremy and left me all those many months ago, I would’ve understood as I only have myself to blame. I want you to know that I feel so lucky to have been given this second chance. I see life, our life, so differently now, through completely different eyes, and often I don’t feel I even deserve what I am so fortunate to still have.” “Ross, please stop!” she could no longer look at him. Tears were streaming down her face and she looked in the opposite direction to shield her emotions from him. “My dearest Demelza, I am so very sorry for everything, and I warned you I was bad at this. No doubt I’ve chosen the wrong words and have upset you more.” She turned back to him slightly and looked down at her hands again. “No,” she said, “your words were not wrong and I have waited so long to hear them that I was afraid they’d never come. But you’ve caught me off guard as I wasn’t expecting them now, today.” “Do you think you could ever forgive me?” he asked her, “I know I have no right to ask you to forget…”

Jeremy was running over to them again. Climbing on the bench and sitting himself between them, he turned to Demelza announcing, “Mama, I’m hungry!” She still was looking away, unwilling to let her son see her crying. Realizing he was getting nowhere with her, he turned to Ross, “Papa, I’m hungry!” “Soon, my boy,” he said while stroking the hair on top of his son’s head that was turning every day more into the ginger color of his mother. Glancing back at Demelza, Jeremy asked Ross, “Why is Mama crying?” “I’ve hurt her very much,” Ross told him honestly. Jeremy immediately burst out, “Why?” Why indeed, Ross thought to himself. Why had he not had more sense that night last May and listened to his wife? Why was he willing to sacrifice everything in one moment of supposed but mistaken passion? “Because your Papa can be quite foolish,” he told him. Jeremy thought awhile before saying, “Then stop!” Out of the mouth of babes, Ross thought. “I fully intend to, my love,” hoping Demelza knew he was really saying this to her.

Demelza wiped her tears and turned to face the two men in her life: her husband and her son. “Are you ready to go in now?” she asked Jeremy with her best intentioned smile. Jeremy hopped off the bench and stuck both of his arms in the air. Both Ross and Demelza knew exactly what he wanted. His favorite way to travel was having his parents lift him off the ground by his arms and swing him in front of them only to land on his feet and do it all again. Ross shrugged his shoulders at Demelza as if to say he was willing if she was, and they both got up to take Jeremy’s hands. Ross made sure she was on the proper side to give Jeremy her uninjured hand. The boy shrieked with glee as he was swung all the way to the house. Ross looked over Jeremy’s head and at his wife vowing, “Moments like these I’ll not take for granted.” Jeremy ran inside, and Ross and Demelza were left alone once again. “If nothing else,” he said while cupping her face with his hands and tenderly wiping her tears with his thumbs, “you must know that I love you and only you. Please tell me you know that.” She nodded. “Demelza, if you don’t mind, please indulge me by saying it.” “I do know, Ross,” she trailed off and then said, “…I love you too.” His heart was bursting. He kissed her ever so softly before saying, “Let’s come inside now. Our son is hungry.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading Chapter 1! I was so surprised to get comments on wanting another chapter as I thought my story had a natural end. I aim to please, so I struggled all week and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it.
> 
> I over-used Ross saying "Demelza" on purpose because it always cracks me up how many times he says it in one show.
> 
> I know I've taken time-line liberties here. Drake wouldn't even have his shop yet or would be making benches. Who knows how much time has past since the night with Elizabeth but the weather is nice enough to be gardening...It's fiction.
> 
> This is pretty much verbatim my own injury I got pulling weeds and the explanation my chiropractor gave me. Not sure if they would've know that much about injuries back then but...
> 
> It's amazing to me how many of my writings are inspired by Jerry Maguire, which to me is one of the most under estimated movies of our time. The final scene with Jeremy is inspired by the final scene in the movie where Dorothy and Jerry are walking and swinging Ray in the park.


End file.
